It's OK, I'm a Chemist

Sunday, June 11, 2006

I have a confession to make that probably will shock no one who knows me: at the tender age of 24 (soon to be 25, eeek!), I still don't have a driver's license. Up until this January, I wasn't even in possession of a learner's permit. Getting my license was just one of those things that I never got along to doing, like growing my hair long or learning how to do a cartwheel. I always tried to justify it as being something that was more of a hassle to get than it was worth. I mean without the legal ability to drive, I was able to never be the designated driver without guilt. And so, I would bum rides off friends, or take the bus, or walk to wherever I needed to go. The only real time it bothered me was when I was flossing the ladies. Girls like guys with cars and so logically they dislike guys without so much the ability to drive a car. I used to be able to get away with it because of my playboy good looks but I find they are no longer compensating for my lack of driver's license. Action had to be taken...

I signed up for a driver's course, which started this past weekend. So far, the experience has been a surreal one. It's as if my conscience has been transported back in time into my high school body. Surrounded by students who either show no interest in the material, or those who do have a very tenuous grasp of it (I'm happy that I'm leaving the province in two month as I won't have to encounter the driving of two particular students) and a teacher who consistently oversteps the bounds of his expertise, I can sympathize with those who found high school a trial. Worst of all, there is the 40-year old University advisor who constantly wants to shift the conversation to sociological studies. Especially infuriating was when the subject of physics came up and she claimed the reason why travelling at higher speeds requires a longer distance to stop is because "when you increase your velocity, you increase your mass". I honestly wanted to chokeher. On top of this are the videos from the late 80s about the dangers of drinking and driving (and an one-hour conversation about it afterwards), or the effect of icy conditions on driving featuring a KnightRider-like talking car. Ultimately, the sacrifice of two weekends and my sanity on a temporary basis will be worthwhile. But right now, the only thing bringing me back next weekend are the sixteen-year old girls.